The Pirate's Secret Baby

by Darlene Marshall

"It's not that I want to see Mrs. Murray suffer, or be estranged from her family, it's the idea of Murray triumphant that I cannot--it is complicated..." he trailed off finally as the door opened and they were ushered inside.

  Their hostess was there to greet them, and seemed so genuinely pleased to have them as guests that Lydia couldn't help but warm to her.

  "And look, here is Alexander with our biggest surprise yet!" She giggled. "James wasn't a surprise to us, after all I grew him, but he may be a surprise to you, Captain St. Armand."

  Murray stepped into the room with a baby in his arms, the infant's red curls a brighter shade than his father's blend of russet and silver. The baby looked up at them sleepily, then yawned widely, stuck his finger in his mouth and put his head back on the sturdy shoulder supporting him. A white bichon trotted in at his heels, but after sniffing at their shoes he returned to his master's side.

  "That is not a puppy, it's a baby," Mattie said disapprovingly.

  "What a clever girl you are!" Daphne Murray said. "The puppies are in the scullery with their mother. When Prentice is finished with your wraps he will take you to the kitchen to meet them, if that meets with your approval, Miss Burke."

  Lydia nodded and Mathilde did a fair job of repressing her excitement until the footman returned. The sleepy infant was handed to a nurse, Murray soberly greeting them while ignoring the damp patch of baby drool on his coat. He was dressed well enough, but looked slightly disheveled next to the pirate, who seemed well aware of the contrast they made.

  They adjourned to a cozy parlor where a cheerful fire took the chill out of the room. Lydia was struck by how perfectly decorated the space was, just the right combination of luxury and comfort. A row of seashells sat atop the mantel, glowing in the firelight, and the soothing blues and grays of the room were highlighted by colorful touches here and there. Sherry was served and genteel conversation occurred, at least among the ladies.

  "So, Murray, kill anyone lately?"

  "Odd, I was about to ask you the same thing, St. Armand."

  "You are both being silly," Daphne Murray scolded them. "I expect better behavior from you gentleman during supper. Captain St. Armand is a pirate, but you have good manners, most of the time, Alexander."

  "One moment," St. Armand said, affronted. "I have excellent manners. Miss Burke will agree with that, won't you?"

  All eyes turned to Lydia, and Murray had an eyebrow cocked and a sardonic expression on his face, while Mrs. Murray smiled encouragingly.

  Lydia cleared her throat. "Captain St. Armand is capable of great courtesy and deportment. Mathilde could not ask for a more loving or caring father."

  "You see, Alexander, I told you the captain wouldn't attack anyone tonight. He will be on his best behavior," Daphne Murray said, patting her husband on the arm. He looked skeptical, but St. Armand watched Lydia, and the look in his eyes surprised her. It was as if he had not expected her to come to his defense, or praise him in any fashion.

  "Thank you," he said, with as much true sincerity as she'd ever heard from him. "Your good opinion of me as a father means a great deal to me."

  "I only speak the truth, Captain. Sometimes your manners with others leave something to be desired, but with Mathilde you are always the father she needs."

  "What of you, Miss Burke?" he leaned over and said for her ears alone. "What is it you need from me?"

  Lydia could not answer that question, not here in front of other people, not now. Her life was twisting about like a kite in shifting winds, and she still did not know if she would soar, or if she would crash to the ground.

  They moved into the dining room and Lydia was about to ask for Mathilde when Mattie rushed in and said, "The cook said if I had your permission, Papa and Miss Burke, I could eat in the kitchen and she said the delicious custard was made by you, Mrs. Murray, and if I stayed in the kitchen I could watch the puppies eat with their mama. Oh, they are so beautiful, Papa! They are like little white clouds and they're laughing and playing, please let me eat with them!"

  Lydia looked at her hostess, who said, "If I were a little girl I would want to eat in the kitchen with puppies also. I have no objection, if Mattie has your permission."

  Permission was granted, and with a swift thank-you the child ran back to her play, leaving the adults to their meal. It was probably better this way, Lydia thought. She did not know yet what the history was with the Murrays and Captain St. Armand, but she wasn't surprised there was a beautiful woman, and animosity from her husband, and St. Armand acting naughty. It probably was better Mattie not be there, in case they were forced to beat a hasty retreat at swordspoint.

  "This is so much fun! I have not had supper with pirates in ages."

  "Pirates, Mrs. Murray? I assure you, I am a merchant captain, nothing more," St. Armand said with a wink, and Daphne Murray giggled, and Murray frowned, and Lydia saw the evening moving in a disastrous direction if something wasn't done.

  "I am almost afraid to ask, but how do you all know each other?"

  Murray spoke up first. "Daphne and I were castaway and Captain St. Armand rescued us and brought us to England."

  Lydia waited for more, but St. Armand just sat there, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I was surprised to see you in Liverpool, Murray. I was led to believe you'd open a surgery in London."

  "We are here because Alexander and I are learning about my father's shipping, Captain. Someday I'll inherit it and we need to know more, so we are spending time working for my father."

  "This is a temporary sojourn," Murray said, waving off a servant who offered him more wine. Lydia did not mind a touch more in her glass, as Mrs. Murray set an excellent table and managed her household well. She was dressed plainly, in a simple striped muslin the same blue as her stunning eyes, trimmed in modest pink rosettes with a matching satin bandeau in her golden curls. She wore no jewelry other than her wedding ring, and Lydia knew after seeing the fashionable outfit worn earlier that Daphne was being kind, so as to not embarrass her guest.

  Captain St. Armand carried on a perfectly normal conversation over supper about shipping and the future of the industry as the men debated which markets would be expanding and what goods would be valued now that the wars were over. Murray solicited his wife's opinion, which seemed to surprise St. Armand, but Lydia had seen while Daphne Murray acted silly, she wasn't stupid. It was good her husband recognized this, because in Lydia's experience as a governess, oftentimes men failed to realize their wives could do more than pop out heirs.

  They dined on poached turbot and a good English roast beef with pudding, fresh beans in a bechamel sauce, and Mrs. Murray's custard, which was indeed excellent. It was the style of English supper Lydia'd missed most in the islands, and the Murray's cook did it justice.

  Rather than adjourn separately, the men to their port and the women to await them, they all trouped into the kitchen. The pups were in the scullery and Mattie sat amidst them on the floor as they frolicked about her looking like animated snowballs. Their mother watched them closely, but Daphne came over and hummed to her, scratching her behind her ear, and the dog relaxed. Coquette's coloring was more varied than Pompom's, as she sported dark tan ears, a pattern carried over onto some of the pups.

  Most of them left Mattie to mock-fight amongst themselves, but one, the smallest of the litter, ran at Mattie, pounced on her gown, then jumped off. He hunkered down on his chest with his bottom in the air, tail wagging as he yipped in joyful play.

  Mattie scooped the little clown up and covered him in kisses as he squirmed in her hands and tried to lick and bite at her chin. She looked up at them then, her blue eyes wide over the dog's head.

  "Oh look, Papa! Look, Miss Burke! It is our puppy!"

  Lydia leaned over and said in St. Armand's ear, "I am not going to tell her she can't have that puppy."

  He scratched his own chin. "I should have known if we took Mattie to see puppies we would end up with one," he turned to their hostess. "May I purchase a
pup--that one, if he's available--for Mattie? Is he weaned?"

  Daphne tapped her finger against her lush mouth as she thought. "I will give you the pup, Captain, but he's just started eating regular food. Can you get him at the end of the week? That way he won't be separated from Coquette too abruptly."

  "That should be acceptable, Mrs. Murray. And thank you."

  He went over to where Mattie sat and squatted down on his heels, listening intently as Mattie explained all about the puppies. Lydia watched fondly, but was startled by a light tap on her shoulder.

  "May I have a word, Miss Burke?"

  She followed Murray out into the kitchen, where he looked at her out of grave hazel eyes.

  "Miss Burke, are you being held against your will? Do you need assistance? We can offer you safety here--St. Armand is not the only one with friends who carry knives."

  Lydia was deeply touched this man would put himself, and possibly his family, at risk for a stranger. But she answered truthfully when she said, "I am with Captain St. Armand of my own will, Mr. Murray. Mattie needs me, and I will stay with them as her governess."

  He studied her without speaking, hands clasped behind his back. Finally, he said, "As you wish, ma'am. No doubt you are a civilizing influence on the child. If you--or Mattie--ever require assistance, you may call upon me."

  "Thank you, Mr. Murray, but my place, for now, is with the St. Armand family."

  He looked back over his shoulder to where the father and daughter sat on the floor, their dark curls close together. "The child seems healthy and is clearly St. Armand's offspring. She has no mother?"

  "No, her mother Nanette lived on St. Martin but she became ill and died, and that is how I became Mattie's governess," Lydia said, more or less truthfully as they returned to the scullery. There was enough animosity between the men, she did not need to add fuel to those flames.

  Mattie was making crooning noises to the little pup as her father talked to her, "And we will bring one of your old shifts, Mattie, and rub it all over Coquette, then put it in the puppy's bed at our house. It will calm him and he'll sleep better at night, because it will smell like his mother, but also like you."

  "You have owned puppies, Captain?" Lydia asked.

  "I had a terrier once. Samson."

  He turned back to the dog, poking a finger under its chin and the pup jumped and fell over in delight at the new toy.

  "What will you call him, Mattie?"

  "See the brown patch around his eye, Papa? He looks like a pirate dog. I will call him..." she thought about it, then grinned. "Jolly Roger! Or just Jolly because he is such a jolly little darling."

  "An excellent name for this ferocious creature, Marauding Mattie."

  Lydia said to their hosts, "It has been a long day and it might be best if we end it now before someone gets cranky and unreasonable."

  "I'm being quite well behaved."

  "I meant Mathilde, Captain."

  St. Armand fluidly rose to his feet and they thanked their hosts and promised to return for Jolly Roger. Daphne and Alexander Murray stood close to one another, her hand resting lightly on his arm and Lydia sighed, remembering what it was like to be close to another human being that way, not the closeness of a teacher and pupil, as she had with Mattie, but the closeness of adults who found companionship together, sharing life's events, having someone to turn to at the end of the day, someone who knew you and cared about you.

  Mattie perked up when she washed for bed. When St. Armand stepped in to kiss her goodnight, she said, "What about my story, Papa?"

  He returned with his copy of Captain Johnson and arranged himself on her bed while Lydia took the chair. She didn't want to admit it to the two pirates, but she also was captivated by the tales of long ago miscreants and their adventures.

  "As you know, Mattie, Edward Teach, or Blackbeard, was a commodore of pirates, commanding other captains beneath him. He was not a good man at all, but he was a very successful pirate, so successful that the governor of Virginia Colony offered a huge bounty on his head--one hundred pounds!"

  Mattie's eyes grew large as her father gave her an edited version of Blackbeard's life, but even so she was frowning at the end.

  "'Here was an end of that courageous brute, who might have passed in the world for a hero had he been employed in a good cause; his destruction...was entirely owing to the conduct and bravery of Lieutenant Maynard and his men.'"

  "Blackbeard did not treat his crew well, Papa. You are the better captain. I am glad Lieutenant Maynard stopped him."

  He closed the book and looked at Lydia. "You seem pensive, Miss Burke. Did you not like it that Blackbeard received his just deserts?"

  Lydia looked at the father and daughter together, and thought on Murray's offer to rescue her from pirates. "'Who might have passed in the world for a hero had he been employed in a good cause...' It makes me think, Captain St. Armand, of what could have become of brave and bold people like Edward Teach and Anne Bonny and Mary Read if they had not become pirates."

  "No doubt their lives would have been duller."

  "No doubt, but I imagine their families would have been happier."

  He raised his brows at this statement. "Consider this--they may have been fleeing from a worse situation when they went to sea. Not all families--"

  He stopped and looked down at his daughter, who'd dropped off to sleep during their conversation. "We're done here, Miss Burke."

  * * * *

  They left the room and she paused, looking down the hallway to her dark and empty room. Robert raised his candle to peer into her face.

  "Is there something wrong?"

  "No. Yes." She straightened her shoulders and spoke brusquely. "Yes. I have a request, Captain St. Armand. I would like to be held."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You heard me," she said, her rich voice low, and hushed, but she kept her eyes on his face. "I wish to be held. Not ravished, not kissed senseless, not exposed to fur pillows and exotic Oriental techniques, simply...held. Are you capable of that?"

  She swallowed and he knew she'd been pushed far beyond what any reasonable woman could be expected to tolerate. There were fractures in the safe life she'd constructed for herself, fractures he'd caused. The evening spent in the company of a dull and respectable married couple no doubt reminded her of what was missing from her own life. Most of that could not be put at his doorstep, but as he'd reminded her more than once, she was a member of a pirate crew, for good, but also for ill. She may not have chosen a life of danger like Anne Bonny, but she was nonetheless cast adrift.

  He did not regret what he'd done and he knew the day was not yet over--he could still do things for Lydia Burke she could not begin to imagine, but for now he could give her what she wished for.

  He set down his candle, and the book. Wordlessly he opened his arms and she hesitated, then walked into them. As he enclosed her in his embrace her body lost its stiffness and she rested there, in his arms, silent. She was not motionless. She trembled, as slightly as a fern brushed by the passing of a sparrow. After a moment as long as a lifetime of regrets she pulled back, but his arms tightened about her, offering safety and she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

  He did not know how long they stood like that, just holding one another and listening to their heartbeats, but she stepped out of his embrace and he released her, reluctantly.

  She smoothed down her skirts.

  "Thank you," she said as mildly as if he'd passed her the butter at table, not as if his entire world was now realigned on its foundation. Being desired was not new to him. All his life women desired him for his looks, for his charm, for his dangerous ways. The idea of being desired for comfort, that was new.

  Any caring man could offer comfort. A clerk in a counting house. A parson. A farmer. A surgeon. You did not have to be a beautiful and dangerous pirate to offer comfort. An ugly man, a scarred man, a blind man could offer comfort to another human being.

  Was he worthy o
f this regard? If he did not have his looks, and his wealth, and his skill at bedsport, what could he offer a woman? What could he offer this woman?

  "Now I have a request to make of you."

  "What?"

  She knew his answer when his lips touched hers, a soft kiss, at first, not demanding, but a seeking kiss, a kiss to learn who she was, what she wanted--no, a kiss to learn who he was, what he wanted. It was something he'd never considered, never had to consider, but he needed to know, now, that he still had value, this new man who comforted little girls with nightmares and big ones who wanted to be held.

  What he wanted now was not what he wanted two months ago. He feared what he wanted now would rock his vessel in ways he could not imagine, put him in waters he could not navigate, not without Lydia Burke at his side. She was so beautiful tonight in her simple gown, but the lowered neckline exposed more of her creamy skin to his gaze and the candlelight gleaming on her rich hair had him vowing to burn any ugly caps remaining in her possession, no matter what promises he'd made.

  It terrified him to feel this way about the prickly governess. He'd worried that he could not be Mattie's father, not the father she needed, and Lydia reassured him and helped him understand that yes, he could be that father. But could he be the man Lydia needed? Could she ever come to see him beyond his pretty face and his smooth ways, and value him?

  There would be no definitive answers until they reached their destination and she saw him for who he really was. In the meantime, he would protect her from that which threatened her safety, and he would do his best to give her what emotional support he was capable of giving her, because he did not know if he was capable of being the man she needed.

  Chapter 18

  Mattie's repeated questions of when they'd get her puppy drove all to distraction, but they finally secured the animal and said farewell to the Murrays. Mrs. Murray praised Lydia's new Coburg cap of blue velvet lined with white satin as being an excellent and fashionable match with her sapphire brocade pelisse.

  The headgear was the last item to be delivered and there were finally enough dresses, boots and bonnets for Captain St. Armand to pronounce them ready to move on.